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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25782328">crossroads</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dachenabritta/pseuds/dachenabritta'>dachenabritta</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bittersweet HEA, Dark fic, Drugs, F/M, Modern AU, References to Underage Sex, TW: suicide (mentioned), all hurt is in Rey's past, coffee is the only consistent thing in this fic, depressing vibes, diner au, regular Ben, small town Minnesota, trauma warning, waitress Rey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:55:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,389</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25782328</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dachenabritta/pseuds/dachenabritta</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Her days aren't boring <i>necessarily</i>. They're just all the same. As it should be for someone who works in a truck stop diner. </p><p>Rey doesn't question life very often. She doesn't question anything at all, actually. </p><p>Until the regular at booth 16 starts asking.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>131</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>230</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Reylo Hidden Gems</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. first</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I want to give a heads up for this fic. It is dark. It deals with a near-death experience, trauma, PTSD and some seriously depressing topics. This is angst. You've been warned. </p><p>I know I have 2 WIP's right now, but I'm going through some shit and just need an output.</p><p> </p><p>Again, you've been warned.</p><p>DCB</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>In one way or another, waiting tables is satisfying.</p><p> </p><p>There’s a routine. You have regulars that you know by name. The menu is the same besides the daily special.</p><p> </p><p>Rey doesn’t particularly <em>like </em>waiting tables. It’s just fills her time better than most jobs can.</p><p> </p><p>She rises late in the morning, 10:30 am, for her shift of the day. Yawning and stretching in her twin sized bed, Rey whips the covers from her legs and begins her day.</p><p> </p><p>Every day is the same.</p><p> </p><p>Get up, brush teeth, wash face, brush hair, put on deodorant, get dressed, eat a bowl of cereal, check that the stove is off and walk out the door.</p><p> </p><p>Her shift is 11 to 7 every day. It has not changed since she started working at Brimstone’s Diner a year ago.</p><p> </p><p>The diner is located only a short, five-minute drive away from Rey’s mobile home. The restaurant sits on the borders of two major towns here in Minnesota, making the place a hotspot for truck drivers, tourists and local farmers to swing by for a burger and milkshake.</p><p> </p><p>She tugs on the rattling front door and finds the diner absolutely bustling for lunch rush. Fellow waitresses are rushing back and forth from the kitchen to the booths, attempting to keep up with the mass amount of orders.</p><p> </p><p>Rey hurries to the back and unzips her jacket, tying her apron around her waist and pulling her hair back in a high ponytail.</p><p> </p><p>She takes a deep breath in and a deep breath out. It’s time to start the workday.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Everything is the usual. Mac, a regular, from the farm a few miles west of the diner orders a club sandwich and soda. Lorilee, another regular, works in the town’s grocery store. She always orders the soup of the day with a radiating smile on her face and a hefty tip at the end. Lorilee is an angel compared to some of the other…customers.</p><p> </p><p>The truck drivers are always the worse. They’re rude to Rey and the other waitstaff, demand things that aren’t even <em>on </em>the menu and one of them called her <em>sugarpie </em>a few months ago.</p><p> </p><p>It took all of Rey’s strength and sturdiness from growing up on the Chicago streets not to kill that guy then and there.</p><p> </p><p>But besides the occasional asshole or ten, Rey likes her job.</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t talk a lot to her fellow waitresses but they’re friends. At least <em>Rey </em>thinks they’re friends.</p><p> </p><p>After lunch rush, she’s cleaning up a table that a mother and daughter left an absolute wreck of when her supervisor, Rebecca, approaches her with a clipboard.</p><p> </p><p>“Hi, Rey.”</p><p> </p><p>She straightens up from her awkward bent position at the table. “Hello.”</p><p> </p><p>“I have good and bad news for you.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey gulps.</p><p> </p><p>She’s been here an entire <em>year, </em>and no one has ever approached her about <em>news</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Wh-what is it? Did something happen? Am I in trouble?”</p><p> </p><p>Rebecca laughs. “Oh goodness no, Rey! Quite the opposite actually. The bad news was that Carol quit last night.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey’s eyebrows crinkle. Carol? Wasn’t she the older woman who covered the back portion of the diner during closing shifts?</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, well.” Rey trips over her words, unsure of how to respond. “That sucks. What’s the good news then?”</p><p> </p><p>Rebecca sets the clipboard down and then drum rolls on the table, stupidly ecstatic.</p><p> </p><p>“The good news is…you’ve been promoted! You’re taking over Carol’s shift!”</p><p> </p><p>The world begins to sink and darken. Rey can hear her the blood drain from her ears and nose.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>No. That would change my day. My routine. Everything. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Th-that’s, um, I don’t know what to say.”</p><p> </p><p>The blonde waitress scoffs. “Well, say yes of course! You’re going to be making an extra two whole dollars an hour, young lady.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey nervously twists the cloth in her hand until she feels water wring out of it and drip onto her fingertips. “Miss Rebecca, I don’t think-“</p><p> </p><p>“Great! Come in at 2 tomorrow. I’ll run over the closing procedure.”</p><p> </p><p>The woman grabs the clipboard and turns around, like Rey has said yes.</p><p> </p><p>She didn’t.</p><p> </p><p>“And one more thing!” Rebecca says, twisting around momentarily. “You’ll have to start covering Carol’s tables. The ones in the back.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wait, I said I-“</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, sweetheart!”</p><p> </p><p>The peppy woman leaves Rey at the table, the soapy water forming a small puddle underneath her hands.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>What just happened?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>The alarm still goes off at 10:30 the next day, even though Rey can now sleep in further each morning.</p><p> </p><p>Rey has no idea what to do with her extra three hours.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe she could do a couple laps around the trailer park? No. Her neighbors might see her, and she’s not once spoken to a single one of them ever.</p><p> </p><p>Watch TV? That’s a no go too. Her small box set only ever gets static and Rey is too much of a scaredy cat to call a technician.</p><p> </p><p>The only thing to do is eat. And maybe stretch.</p><p> </p><p>So that’s what Rey does. She polishes off a couple bowls of generic cereal. Eats piece of toast. And then does yoga with her remaining hour and a half.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe Rey could start cleaning in this new free time. She doesn’t have much of anything in her tiny trailer but enough that things get scattered easily.</p><p> </p><p>Rey loved to paint before she was depressed. Maybe that would help again.</p><p> </p><p>The clock ticks by thankfully and then Rey starts her <em>actual </em>morning routine, and heads out the door, uncomfortable already with the change of the day’s pace.</p><p> </p><p>She’s also not happy about switching her portion of the restaurant.</p><p> </p><p>Rey <em>likes </em>her regulars. The front end is her favorite. It’s where the tourists like to go too. And they are always funny people.</p><p> </p><p>She pouts like a child when she takes the first order of the day.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a younger girl, looking to be in her mid-teens. Rey recognizes her since she must live in walking distance, but she’s never spoken to her before.</p><p> </p><p>“Hi there.” Rey places a menu down on the table. “My name is Rey and I’ll be taking your order today.”</p><p> </p><p>The girl gazes up to Rey, her eyes oddly glassy and a strange look on her face.</p><p> </p><p>“Where’s Carol?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh…“ Where <em>is </em>Carol? She never asked Rebecca. All she said is that Carol quit.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know. Can I get you a juice? Or a soda?”</p><p> </p><p>She shakes her head, flaxen braids swinging as she does so.</p><p> </p><p>“Can you go get Carol for me?”</p><p> </p><p>Rey doesn’t know what to do. She’s stiff as a board. And she’s not good with kids.</p><p> </p><p>“Let me…go ask someone. Kay?”</p><p> </p><p>She nods, eyes trailing back to the menu.</p><p> </p><p>With bated steps, Rey makes her way around the bar over to the cash register where Rebecca is ringing up a check.</p><p> </p><p>“Um, Miss Rebecca? I have a girl over here at table 13 asking about Carol. Where did she go? Did she move?”</p><p> </p><p>The woman hums as she smashes down the <em>open </em>button, the drawer clattering loudly.</p><p> </p><p>“Carol told me she had some ‘revelation’ or whatever the hell that means and moved to California.” Rebecca counts out some ones. “I don’t really know. She talked a lot to the regular at table 16. Maybe he inspired her to leave or something.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey looks up from the counter and to the back, looking for the table three behind the teen girl. It’s in the corner and the light doesn’t hit the booth very well.</p><p> </p><p>There’s a man there, hair dark with the dimmed light, with a coffee nursed in his hand and a book in the other. For some reason Rey has never noticed him there. Ever.</p><p> </p><p>But this is the first time she’s very worked the back portion. And the diner is large.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey returns to the table to bring the unfortunate news to this girl.</p><p> </p><p>“About Carol…” Rey begins, “It appears she’s moved to California. I’m sorry. But I can wait you today.”</p><p> </p><p>Sniffling causes Rey to start panicking. What does one do to help a comforting child? Pat their back? Tell them that it’s going to be okay?</p><p> </p><p>“Please d-don’t cry—”</p><p> </p><p>“Can I join you?”</p><p> </p><p>The lumbering voice that has suddenly appeared makes Rey physically jump, a short scream caught in her throat.</p><p> </p><p>It’s the man from booth 16. He’s looking down at the girl and still holding his cup of coffee.</p><p> </p><p>She looks up with puffy, red eyes and nods, letting the stranger take the seat across from her. Rey stares at the booth, dumbfounded, and unsure of what to even <em>say. </em></p><p> </p><p>“Could she have an orange juice? I’ll put it on my tab.”</p><p> </p><p>Should Rey be leaving this young girl alone with a man who appears to be in his late twenties or early thirties? It seems unnatural.</p><p> </p><p>But the girl is now smiling. Like his presence is already making her feel better.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure,” Rey says with reluctance. “I’ll…be right back.”</p><p> </p><p>She speeds to the back, and then to the dining area, spilling a little OJ on her hands from the sheer speed.</p><p> </p><p>In the minute she was gone, the girl is <em>laughing </em>along with the man.</p><p> </p><p>Rey is so lost.</p><p> </p><p>She pulls out her notepad, ready to begin a food order.</p><p> </p><p>The girl’s tears are dried. She looks up to Rey with a warming smile.</p><p> </p><p>“I think I’m just gonna go with the orange juice today. Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey just nods at them both, turns on her heel and goes back to the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>Another waitress, Catie, is making a pot of coffee. Rey leans against the counter next to her, still eyeing the unusual scene across the diner.</p><p> </p><p>“Catie, who is that guy? Is it okay that he’s talking to that girl?”</p><p> </p><p>Catie looks ups to Rey first, then over to booth 13. And then, weirdly enough, <em>she’s </em>smiling too.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, sure.” The older woman’s face crinkles. “That’s Benjamin. Carol really liked him. Said he was one of her favorite regulars. He never orders food, just a black coffee. And tips like he means it.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey still doesn’t understand. Her arms cross, the coolness of her name badge pressing against her forearm. “And he’s…<em>you know</em>, not like a predator or anything? She looks young.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, no he’s not!” The woman nearly drops the glass pot at her defense. “Boy has a good head on his shoulders. He likes talking with some of the other regulars around here. Remember old man Bobby?”</p><p> </p><p>Bobby must have been in his early 70’s. He would hobble in every other day, glued to his walker until he sat down at his table. Rey hardly served him when he was here. Then, six months or so ago, he moved. Or died. Rey doesn’t know.</p><p> </p><p>“Yea. What about him?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, Bobby liked to talk to Benjamin a lot. From the conversations I overheard, they talked about the radio a whole bunch. What a funny topic, huh? He always brought a smile to the old geezer’s face.”</p><p> </p><p>With the fondness Catie is referencing the past regular with, he must be dead. Right?</p><p> </p><p>Rey doesn’t really care. She doesn’t bother asking.</p><p> </p><p>“Huh. Ok then. Thanks, Catie.” Rey has other tables to attend to. If the girl is going to safe with him, Rey doesn’t have the right to go and interrupt them.</p><p> </p><p>She checks up on them after an entire hour of running food back and forth.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you <em>sure </em>there’s nothing I can get you two to eat?”</p><p> </p><p>The man, Benjamin, looks up, brandy eyes meeting hers. His smile falters a bit.</p><p> </p><p>“No thank you. We’re good.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” Rey says with a shrug. She checks the huge clock overhead of the bar. Only half an hour until her break.</p><p> </p><p>__</p><p> </p><p>Like always, break comes and goes with a blink of an eye.</p><p> </p><p>And by the time Rey walks back out to the main diner area, retying her apron as she does so, the girl is gone.</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin has moved back to his regular booth. And there’s another cup of coffee.</p><p> </p><p>Her curiosity outweighs the duties she’s supposed to be doing right now. This is the first thing that has interested her in what feels like centuries.</p><p> </p><p>Her hands are gripped at her hips when she strolls to his table. He’s so buried back in his book, that he hardly notices her- at first.</p><p> </p><p>His expression falters again when her slight shadow casts on the already dark booth. It’s the only table not next a window.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I help you?”</p><p> </p><p>Rey could laugh. Isn’t that <em>her </em>line?</p><p> </p><p>“Yea. The girl that was here in the booth three seats over. Where did she go?”</p><p> </p><p>He merely sips at the coffee, digesting her question. “Maddy? What about her?”</p><p> </p><p>This man learned her <em>name</em>?</p><p> </p><p>“I hope you didn’t say anything creepy to her. Girls are the most vulnerable at that age.”</p><p> </p><p>The expression darkens further, as he sets the cup down, completely letting go of it.</p><p> </p><p>“What time are you off?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>What the fuc-</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Excuse </em>me? I just asked if you were being creepy to a young girl and <em>that’s </em>what you respond with?”</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t respond. Just picks up the coffee again.</p><p> </p><p>“Now <em>listen here you-</em>“</p><p> </p><p>“She went back to her parents,” Benjamin interrupts. “I’ve talked to Maddy before. She wanted to run away. I convinced her to go home.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey all but stops in her tracks. That was not all what she thought he was going to say, even in the slightest. Her mouth drops a little, a blush decorating her face. Why is she embarrassed? She had every right to ask him some questions.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. It just-“ her voice cracks, memories surging.</p><p> </p><p>“Us girls have to stick together. I’m doing what I hope another girl would do for me.”</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin apparently forgives her, because the slight grin returns to his face.</p><p> </p><p>“You never told me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“What time do you get off?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Well, Rey works closing now. She’ll be here clear until 10 pm. The day’s glow will already be long gone by then. Maybe it would be nice to have someone else with her while she learns closing.</p><p> </p><p>“10. Today’s my first day of this shift.”</p><p> </p><p>He takes a longer sip, eyes closing as the liquid bobs down his throat. Rey didn’t notice earlier but his wardrobe is rather…peculiar. He’s wearing a cotton oversized work shirt, high rise trousers and weirdly enough, suspenders.</p><p> </p><p>He looks forty years too young to wear suspenders.</p><p> </p><p>“Too late,” Benjamin says. “I have to go before that.”</p><p> </p><p>“And when’s tha-“</p><p> </p><p>He slaps a few bills down and stands up abruptly, scaring Rey <em>again. </em></p><p> </p><p>“Right now. Thanks, Rey.”</p><p> </p><p>His shoes squeak softly on the diner’s polished floor, hands in pockets. Rey is so shocked that she can’t say a single word in response. She only watches Benjamin march out and head out the door, fading out to the Minnesotan landscape.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>This is far too much action for Rey in one day.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. second</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you guys for the reads, comments and kudos &lt;3. I know this fic isn't for everyone so I really appreciate you being here!</p><p> </p><p>xoxo<br/>DCB</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Benjamin is definitely a regular.</p><p> </p><p>He is there when she arrives at her new shift time every day. He always has a black coffee already. He doesn’t order any food. He reads a book while Rey meets the back’s regulars and their orders.</p><p> </p><p>Rey is finally back into a routine.</p><p> </p><p>It feels good. Satisfying. As it should be. She misses her usuals, but always sneaks in a quick <em> hello </em> or <em> how are you? </em> when passing by. Rey is not chatty. But she <em> is </em> nice.</p><p> </p><p>The only thing Rey talks to Benjamin about is either a. refilling his cup or b. if he wants to order food today.</p><p> </p><p>A couple days out the week, he’ll leave his home base of booth 16 and go sit with another lonely patron. Today, he’s with a couple though, both looking to be around the same age as Benjamin. All three of them are hyper focused in a conversation and Rey, for some odd reason, is <em> desperate </em>to overhear.</p><p> </p><p>She pretends to refill the ketchup bottles two booths over. Rey only catches a few quips.</p><p> </p><p>“…<em> she’ll be fine, your sister is responsible, right? </em>”</p><p> </p><p>Does he know these people already? They look like tourists. Rey has never seen them before.</p><p> </p><p>Then another odd phrase from Benjamin.</p><p> </p><p>“…<em> it’s easier to look down than it is to peer through the bushes…” </em></p><p> </p><p>What does that mean? Is it a riddle?</p><p> </p><p>The couple then leave, shaking Benjamin’s hand (that’s even <em> weirder) </em> and exiting hand-in-hand.</p><p> </p><p>He returns back to booth 16 and drinks his coffee like nothing happened.</p><p> </p><p>Rey swings by his table, topping off his cooled drink with fresh brew. He sets the book down but doesn’t look at her.</p><p> </p><p>She’s about to turn on her heel and leave when he finally speaks up.</p><p> </p><p>“The trick to avoiding confusion is to never eavesdrop in the first place.”</p><p> </p><p>Her entire body freezes, the scalding liquid sloshing violently at her sudden break.</p><p> </p><p>Damn. And she thought she was being <em> so </em>sneaky.</p><p> </p><p>“Uhhmm.” Rey slowly turns around, guilt painted on her face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you closing today again?” Benjamin is staring at her eyes, but she can’t look back.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course. That’s my shift. I-It’s my shift every day.”</p><p> </p><p>She hears him blow on the cooling coffee, then take a rather large swig.</p><p> </p><p>“And you don’t find that odd?”</p><p> </p><p>She’s stupefied by his retort. Does Rey find her regular job, with regular hours, in a regular diner <em> odd? </em></p><p> </p><p>This is coming from a man who, according to Catie, has no job, sits in a truck stop diner all day drinking black coffee and conversing with strangers. And he has the audacity to call <em>her </em>situation odd?</p><p> </p><p>“To be honest, sir, I find <em> you </em>odd.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey claps a hand over her mouth. That was the absolute <em> boldest </em> thing she’s ever said in her life. And to a <em> customer, </em>nonetheless.  </p><p> </p><p>“I d-don’t-“ she begins to stutter, but Benjamin is chuckling.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry,” he says with a slight laugh, “I find myself odd too. I’ve heard it all.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”</p><p> </p><p>She feels bad. He is not normal. He says abnormal and confusing things, <em> does </em>abnormal and confusing things.</p><p> </p><p>That’s one thing about living in middle-of-nowhere Minnesota. Everything is straight and bland.</p><p> </p><p>When you catch the first gleam of anything interesting or colorful, you’re hooked. Like a trout eyeing bait. It’s impossible to resist.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll stay until closing today,” he says, stretching his legs out under the table. “Don’t think they’ll get too mad at me, since it’s you.”</p><p> </p><p>“What are you-“</p><p> </p><p>Her question is cut off when Rebecca calls her name to the back, probably due to a massive order that needs an extra set of hands.</p><p> </p><p>“Go on, Rey. They need you.”</p><p> </p><p>All she can do is nod and leave.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Rey tries to process Benjamin’s words. They make no sense, like the rest of him.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Her closing partner, Eileen, has to leave early today. She never says why, but Benjamin is still here in the diner with her, and it’s the only reason Rey didn’t ask her coworker more questions.</p><p> </p><p>His coffee cups are gone. It’s too dark to read his book. So, he just watches as Rey mops the floors, wiping a drop of sweat from her forehead.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a little irritating. Rey doesn’t like being observed when she works. She didn’t like it at her 9-5 back in Chicago and she doesn’t like it now.</p><p> </p><p>The sopping head of the mop plunges into soapy water, Rey huffing as she tries to wring it out with the handle. The floor was the last thing to do out here in the dining area. The final thing to do is-</p><p> </p><p>Oh no.</p><p> </p><p>The kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>Rey gulps. Usually Eileen checks on the ovens, stoves and grills. Not Rey.</p><p> </p><p>But Eileen isn’t here today.</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes creep behind her where Benjamin is now staring out to the darkened window. There’s nothing outside. It’s basically a black hole of dirt and corn fields.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh…Benjamin?”</p><p> </p><p>He cranes his neck back to her, not affected by the nervousness in her voice.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes?”</p><p> </p><p>Her toes churn down at the slippery floor. “This is really awkward but, could you go check the appliances for me in the kitchen? The ovens and all that?”</p><p> </p><p>Rey expects him to raise a brow at her. Maybe he’ll laugh. But she doesn’t care how he reacts. All that matters is that he does it.</p><p> </p><p>Because Rey can’t.</p><p> </p><p>But Benjamin does none of that. He just stretches, the cotton of his button up shirt yanking around his armpits. It’s like he didn’t even hear her.</p><p> </p><p>“What if I say no?”</p><p> </p><p>Rey grips the wooden handle of the mop tighter. Again, he responds back with something so wickedly unexpected that Rey’s mind is thrown into a loop, unable to process.</p><p> </p><p>“If you say no then I’ll-“</p><p> </p><p>What <em> will </em>Rey do? Quit? Never speak to him again? Those are threats of a child, not a twenty-five-year-old.</p><p> </p><p>She gives up, sagging.</p><p> </p><p>“Please. Just do it.”</p><p> </p><p>His face remains solemn and calm. The only light within the entire diner is the low hanging bulbs, dimmed to signal closing and the bar’s neon red racing lights. The mix of the two glows blends into a pinkish haze, illuminating the curve of his jaw.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine. But on one condition.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Anything.”</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin’s mouth chews on his words as he shifts his body to fully face her at the edge of the booth seat.</p><p> </p><p>“You have to tell me what you want most in life.”</p><p> </p><p>What.</p><p> </p><p>As usual, whatever Benjamin says makes absolutely no sense at all.</p><p> </p><p>But this? This takes the cake.</p><p> </p><p>Rey can only dumbly stare at him. “<em> Whuh?” </em></p><p>
  
</p><p>“What do you want most in life?” he repeats.</p><p> </p><p>The questions rings through her head like an echo. It’s a question she’s hardly ever asked herself.</p><p> </p><p>Rey’s life has always been about survival. Not about frivolous things like <em> wants. </em></p><p> </p><p>Your parents leave you to die on the streets as a child? Fine. Rey will eat trash and survive until someone finds her.</p><p> </p><p>You OD in the seventh grade, alone in the school’s bathroom? You’ll get through it. It’s only coke.</p><p> </p><p>Your entire house burns down while you’re inside it due to a gas leak? Hell, Rey will survive that too.</p><p> </p><p>It’s never been about <em> want. </em></p><p> </p><p>So, she doesn’t answer. She can’t.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t—” Her breath hitches. “I don’t want anything.”</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin rises from the booth, his shadow overtaking her stilled form.</p><p> </p><p>“Really? I don’t believe that. Not for a minute.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s the truth isn’t it? What <em> does </em>Rey want? Desire?</p><p> </p><p>She shakes her head. “Please. Just…check the kitchen. Or I have to call my boss. And I <em> really </em>don’t want to do that.”</p><p> </p><p>He must pick up on her hesitance, because he walks right past her, around the bar and into the kitchen, footsteps sounding in the quiet restaurant. It’s the last task Rey has to do before locking up.</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin pushes the swing door open. “All good. Everything’s off.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey lets out a breath of relief she didn’t know she was holding.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you. I’m gonna lock up now, so I have to kick us out.”</p><p> </p><p>She secures the back door, then they both walk out the front, Rey flipping the switches on all the lights besides the bar’s neon blaze.</p><p> </p><p>The final latch <em> clicks </em>and Rey pockets the ring of keys, fishing out her car fob instead. She notices her old Honda Civic is only vehicle left in the small lot.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you walk here? Want a ride?”</p><p> </p><p>His hands are in his pockets, back straight and head tilted up to the stars.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve been waiting for a long time now.”</p><p> </p><p>She only sighs. What world is he living in? Obviously not this one.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, well, thanks for doing that for me, Benjamin. It meant a lot.”</p><p> </p><p>No response.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m gonna…go now.”</p><p> </p><p>He nods. So, he <em> is </em>listening.</p><p> </p><p>Her car is only a solid fifteen steps away and she’s at the driver door, unlocking it when she hears his voice loud and clear in the silent night.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe instead of focusing on what you <em> don’t </em> want Rey, try thinking of what you <em> do </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Her car door opens, the sound filling the lot.</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t have the patience to answer another of his mystical questions. She <em> does </em>want to go home and sleep.</p><p> </p><p>“Good night, Benjamin.”</p><p> </p><p>He’s still in the parking lot, staring up at the constellations when Rey checks the rear-view mirror.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Strange man. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>__</p><p> </p><p>Rey doesn’t dream very often anymore.</p><p> </p><p>That’s what will typically happen with PTSD victims who suffer their trauma while sleeping.</p><p> </p><p>At least she doesn’t have nightmares. No dreams are better than bad ones.</p><p> </p><p>But tonight seems to be the exception.</p><p> </p><p>Rey is in the imperious state of half-asleep, half-awake, where you’re aware of your surroundings but not enough to rouse.</p><p> </p><p>It’s like a memory she’s never witnessed. A white room, glowing and bright; pale blue curtains hanging on the window. This place looks so much like her old room back in the Chicago house but in so many ways it’s different.</p><p> </p><p>For one, it’s clean. Depression has a funny thing about cleaning. You just can’t do it.</p><p> </p><p>Also, her house was always a mess. Which was unfortunate because she paid a <em> lot </em>on the mortgage each month. A two-bedroom house in the middle of the Chicago suburbs isn’t cheap.</p><p> </p><p>Rey can hear blue birds sing. It must be summer.</p><p> </p><p>But as soon as the dream starts, it ends.</p><p> </p><p>She wakes finally, only to discover it’s 4 am in the morning. The sky outside is still dark and unwavering, the sun still hidden from the burdens of the upcoming day. She rubs at her face, greasy from not washing it the night before, and sighs, trying to fall back asleep.</p><p> </p><p>And she does. But she doesn’t dream again.</p><p> </p><p>__</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin ends up staying until closing a couple days out the week for the next month or so. Eileen is there too, of course, but she otherwise ignores them both.</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t like to admit it, but Rey severely enjoys his company. Even with all his fortune cookie questions.</p><p> </p><p>One night, he pipes out:</p><p> </p><p>“Did you grow up with God?”</p><p> </p><p>No. There was no religion in any of Rey’s dozen foster homes. The only thing close to faith was the way she worshipped the sins of life; drugs, sex and alcohol were her deities throughout her teenage years.</p><p> </p><p>Rey only responds with “No.” There’s no need to give him all that information.</p><p> </p><p>Another night.</p><p> </p><p>“What regrets do you have?”</p><p> </p><p>Lots. Rey wishes she didn’t take that first hit. Or that first swig. She wished she didn’t go to that frat party at age 15. She wishes she searched harder for her parents. She regrets never letting anyone into her life besides the boring friend or two.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know. I wish I did better in school?”</p><p> </p><p>Not a lie, but again, Rey’s not going to tell Benjamin the full truth.</p><p> </p><p>Then he starts getting mildly invasive.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you lose your virginity yet?”</p><p> </p><p>Rey’s wiping down a barstool seat when he asks <em> that </em> and she nearly has a coughing fit at his absolutely ballsy question, shocked that he thinks he’s comfortable asking if one’s had <em> sex </em>yet.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Excuse </em>me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Did you?” he repeats.</p><p> </p><p>She can’t fight the blush. Rey should really be smacking him upside the head and tell him to never return. But for some reason, she can’t.</p><p> </p><p>Like so many other things.</p><p> </p><p>Rey slaps the wet rag against the bar, huffing and looking up to him. She expects a middle-school grin, or his eyebrows to waggle, but there’s none of that. Benjamin’s eyes are sternly focused on <em> her, </em>patiently awaiting the question he’s so intent on having answered.</p><p> </p><p>“If you <em> really </em> want to know, then <em> yes. </em>I’m not a virgin, thank you very much.”</p><p> </p><p>No reaction from him. Typical.</p><p> </p><p>And Rey is peeved.</p><p> </p><p>“Why the hell did you want to know something like that? Are you trying to come on to me?”</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin snorts at that and embarrassment flares on her cheeks and neck.</p><p> </p><p>“Not really.” He shrugs. “Just curious. That’s all.”</p><p> </p><p>If anyone is going to hold the power here, it’s going to be Rey. And she’s not afraid to bite back.</p><p> </p><p>“And what about <em> you </em> Mr. Hotshot? Not a virgin as well, I <em> presume, </em> given you have the balls to ask a young woman if she is.”</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t react. Just continues to stare out the window.</p><p> </p><p>Anger seeps into Rey’s voice. “<em> Seriously? </em>You’re not going to answer? Even if I’ve been so honest to you-“</p><p> </p><p>“You haven’t,” he strangely interrupts. “You haven’t been honest with me. For a while now.”</p><p> </p><p>How does he have the ability to change the tide of the conversations so quickly?</p><p> </p><p>And Benjamin <em> is </em>right.</p><p> </p><p>Rey <em> has </em> been muting her responses below lies. Like she has her entire life.</p><p> </p><p>They say nothing more to each other that night. Rey doesn’t even offer to drive him home like she always does.</p><p> </p><p>__</p><p> </p><p>Another dream.</p><p> </p><p>Or more so a <em> nightmare. </em></p><p> </p><p>The room is foggy and grey now, an orange glow coming from beyond her door. The birds don’t sing. The curtains are red and glowing. And when Rey looks down to her body, the sheets are aflame as well.</p><p> </p><p>This isn’t a nightmare.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It’s a memory. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She shoots out of bed, trying to find her breath in deep, guttural gasps.</p><p> </p><p>It’s the night that changed Rey’s life forever. It’s the reason she lives in this trailer, why she works at Brimstone’s Diner. The reason why she wanted to get away from any trace of city life and escape to the plain, dusty middle of nowhere.</p><p> </p><p>Her breathing falls back into its regular pattern. She’s safe. Nothing is on fire.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Rey can’t fall back asleep.</p><p> </p><p>__</p><p> </p><p>The other waitresses notice Rey is slacking today.</p><p> </p><p>The orders for her tables go out minutes too late. The notes she takes are incorrect. She mixes up a coffee and apple juice in the wrong cups. But Rey can’t help it. The fatigue of only three hours of sleep is <em> really </em>getting to her head.</p><p> </p><p>And worse of all: Rey spills coffee on a customer’s hand when she goes to refill his cup.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It’s Benjamin’s hand. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, <em> shit! </em>”</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin hardly reacts though, only his eyes widening a bit as Rey grabs a napkin, drying to dab the hot liquid off his skin. Rey wipes if off quickly as possible, noticing how the scalding liquid makes no mark.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m <em> so </em>sorry, Jesus, d-do you want an ice pack? Glass of water?”</p><p> </p><p>He rubs at his hand, mouth twisted oddly as he shakes his head. He doesn’t <em> appear </em>to be in pain, but this man has a poker face that could kill.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m fine. Don’t worry.”</p><p> </p><p>And then, Benjamin <em> smiles </em>at her.</p><p> </p><p>So, the trick to get him to show any other emotion besides passive nothingness is to <em>physically hurt him</em> <em> ? </em></p><p> </p><p>The list keeps getting longer.</p><p> </p><p>“Well.” How is she supposed to respond? “Sorry. Again. Your coffee is on me, obviously.”</p><p> </p><p>He nods and takes a sip of the coffee. There’s still liquid spilled and dripping from the sides. He doesn’t appear to care.</p><p> </p><p>But the slight smile is still there. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. third</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Back with another update. Hope to keep these daily.</p><p>XOXO <br/>DCB</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>It’s another beautiful Minnesotan day. Just like the yesterday. And the day before. Tomorrow will probably be beautiful too.</p><p> </p><p>Rey drives up to the diner, sighing as she removes her key from the ignition.</p><p> </p><p>She needs to get out more often. She only goes two places: home and the diner. Rey even has her groceries delivered so she doesn’t have to drive to the next town over.</p><p> </p><p>Rey follows her daily routine, like always, tying her hair up, wrapping her apron around her waist and plastering on the food service smile she's required to wear. </p><p> </p><p>Just another day at Brimstone's. </p><p> </p><p>A couple regulars ask about the daily special. It’s lamb chop with mashed potatoes.</p><p> </p><p>Lorilee, the regular who likes to sit in Rey’s old section, walks over to Rey and compliments her glowing skin while Rey’s sitting at the bar eating lunch. Rey thanks her and explains all she does is use a bar of soap. Nothing fancy.</p><p> </p><p>Another two hours pass. Benjamin is especially quiet today.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe he’s really into his current book and doesn’t want to be bothered.</p><p> </p><p>Rey tops off his drink a few times, but otherwise, nothing.</p><p> </p><p>After the dinner rush, Rey makes a bold and sudden decision.</p><p> </p><p>She’s going on a drive during her break.</p><p> </p><p>__</p><p> </p><p>It’s nearly 7 pm when Rey gets back into her Honda Civic, her sandwich in her lap and a timer on her phone. She has exactly thirty minutes to go over to the nearby town and…</p><p> </p><p>Do what? Just roam the streets?</p><p> </p><p>Whatever. It’s better than sitting alone in the cramped back room.</p><p> </p><p>She passes what feel likes miles of crop fields, water spraying over the mass expanses of the greenery. It’s hypnotizing to watch the sprinkles rotate, but she keeps her eyes firmly on the road.</p><p> </p><p>Fifteen minutes pass. Her sandwich is finished. Rey should be arriving soon. Actually, she should’ve arrived minutes ago but maybe Rey’s driving under the limit.</p><p> </p><p>But five more minutes pass. There are still only fields and the sun low on the horizon. No buildings. No other roads. Not any other cars either.</p><p> </p><p>Nothing.</p><p> </p><p>Rey’s going to be late coming back to work.</p><p> </p><p>But for some reason that doesn’t worry her more than the fact that <em>the town is nowhere to be found. </em></p><p>
  
</p><p>Her heart is beating at too-fast of pace and her mind is screaming that something is wrong. She's never actually driven into any of the nearby towns during her year in Minnesota, but that shouldn't mean they <em>don't exist. </em></p><p> </p><p>The green was peaceful at first. But now it’s endless and it’s an abyss. And she’s panicking.</p><p> </p><p>She U-turns in the middle of the highway and speeds back to the diner, already aware that Rebecca is <em>definitely </em>going to have something to say about her tardiness. Rey is never late.</p><p> </p><p>But when she steps back through the diner’s doors, no one says anything.</p><p> </p><p>Not Rebecca. Not Catie. Not Eileen. No one.</p><p> </p><p>It’s like they didn’t even know she was gone.</p><p> </p><p>So, Rey acts like nothing’s wrong. She reties her apron, grabs her notepad and sets back to work the dessert rush, the anxiety of the seemingly missing town folded neatly into the back of her mind.</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t have the patience to deal with something like that. Rey just wants to work.</p><p> </p><p>So, she does.</p><p> </p><p>After taking a random truck driver’s order (hot coffee and a slice of pie), Rey is walking to the back to hang up the order when the deep voice at booth 16 speaks up after his day of quiet silence.</p><p> </p><p>“Where were you?”</p><p> </p><p>She stops mid step. He back is still to him, and frankly Rey doesn’t <em>want </em>to answer.</p><p> </p><p>But Benjamin was literally the only person in the entire restaurant to notice her absence.</p><p> </p><p>Rey doesn’t understand why that makes her heart skip a beat.</p><p> </p><p>“I was-uh,” she turns around, eyes still focused on the floor. “I was driving around. I needed to go into town for something.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh? What for?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Why does he care-</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing much, just err-“</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Think of a lie think of a lie think of a lie-</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“…shampoo.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey finally raises her vision up to him, an eyebrow perked and the coffee cup untouched. He must have been too focused in his book to drink.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Shampoo?</em>” he repeats. Rey swears he laughs the words out.</p><p> </p><p>“I have orders to take, Benjamin. Are you staying until closing?”</p><p> </p><p>If he’s put off by the sudden change of topic, he makes no notion of caring. His shoulder lift and drop and his focus returns to the novel that’s been preoccupying the day.</p><p> </p><p>Rey just scoffs. No answer from him today. Looks like she’ll have to make awkward small talk with Eileen again, like she does the days Benjamin leaves early.</p><p> </p><p>__</p><p> </p><p>But he <em>does </em>end up staying. And strangely enough, Eileen has to leave early again.</p><p> </p><p>It’s like fate wants it to be just them tonight. Just Rey and Benjamin.</p><p> </p><p>Rey’s counting the till, concentrated on the stacks of bills and tally marks she’s using to keep track. It’s a very precise duty to do, and if she counts the register incorrectly, that amount is coming out of <em>her </em>tips.</p><p> </p><p>…which is why she’s so annoyed that Benjamin has finally decided he wants to converse <em>right now.</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>“Do you think so?” he asks, Rey completely missing his first question.</p><p> </p><p>She groans, making a mark at <em>30 </em>for the five-dollar bills. “I’m sorry, what did you ask? I’m a little busy right now.”</p><p>
  
</p><p>“I asked if you think we’ll have a White Christmas this year.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey sighs, Christmas the <em>last </em>thing on her mind. “I don’t know. Maybe? I’ve always liked the snow, even though it clogs up the roads so bad.”</p><p> </p><p>He hums in approval. Maybe because Rey is being honest, and Benjamin can tell. She really <em>does </em>love the snow. It’s quiet and comforting; a white veil to the reality that surrounds one’s house, car and city.  </p><p> </p><p>“Are you going home for Christmas?” Rey asks back, peering over the register. “Unless for live here with your family, of course.”</p><p> </p><p>Since it’s so late to closing now, he doesn’t have a coffee or book to distract his response. Benjamin turns his body in the booth and looks up to her.</p><p> </p><p>“My family is dead.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>What a way to bring down a whole conversation in four, simple words.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, err-,” Rey immediately feels guilty, “I’m sorry to hear about that. If it makes you feel any better, I lost my family too.”</p><p> </p><p>His head perks up. “You did?”</p><p> </p><p>Rey continues to stack bills. “Yea. A while ago. At least I <em>think </em>they’re dead. I didn’t really look that into it.”</p><p> </p><p>This is the most honest she’s been with him in the few short months Rey has known Benjamin.</p><p> </p><p>It feels…good.</p><p> </p><p>But Rey knows she can’t keep doing it.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry about yours. I know the feeling. The emptiness.”</p><p> </p><p>He slowly and gradually lifts up from the booth, bringing his random paperback with him and joins her next to the counter, sitting on one of the comparably small barstools.</p><p> </p><p>“Why did you come here?” he nearly whispers.</p><p> </p><p>Rey’s breath hitches.</p><p> </p><p>“Like…why did I move here? To Minnesota?”</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin nods.</p><p> </p><p>He’s getting into territory that’s somewhat blurry. If Rey’s being honest, she hardly remembers leaving the hospital, or packing up her car with whatever possessions didn’t burn to smithereens.</p><p> </p><p>Even the drive here is a foggy memory.</p><p> </p><p>“I uh-“</p><p> </p><p>She <em>does </em>know the reason, though. At least <em>that</em> part is loud and clear. But Benjamin can’t know any of that. He’ll become sick of her and leave her, like everyone else.</p><p> </p><p>“I like the clean air. Cities just weren’t my thing.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey’s growing antsy with his intrusive questions. She just wants him to take the answers she’s giving him without question, but she’s afraid that won’t be the case. Like always.</p><p> </p><p>His arms fold beneath him, eyes roaming and inspecting Rey, like she’s some puzzle he’s trying to figure out.</p><p> </p><p>“How was your drive into town today?”</p><p> </p><p>She’s holding a large wad of twenties when he asks about the affliction that’s settled anxiously in her heart all night and her hands instinctively clench, a sudden chill sent through her system.</p><p> </p><p><em>Danger </em>her mind screams.</p><p> </p><p>Her counting halts for a minute. “It was nice, I guess. Lots of buildings.”</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin goes completely silent. She can’t even hear him breathe.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re lying,” he spits out. There’s an unknown anger in his tone.</p><p> </p><p>And it’s the final straw for Rey.</p><p> </p><p>Because he’s right.</p><p> </p><p>Out of seemingly nowhere, she slams the pile of money onto the shellac counter, her blood reaching boiling point. Weeks and weeks of strange behavior and questions, his emotions never being correct or consistent, and her stupid attraction for him (that Rey straight-up denies to herself) create a state of fury.</p><p> </p><p>Also, the reminder of today’s earlier…<em>incident</em>, makes her stomach drop.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>What the fuck is your problem?”</em></p><p> </p><p>For once, Benjamin is genuinely surprised. His eyes are blown wide, staring at her in shock.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s <em>my </em>problem? <em>You’re </em>the one who keeps lying to me. And yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey is on the verge of a full-on meltdown.</p><p> </p><p>She can’t count cash right now. She can’t do <em>anything </em>right now.</p><p> </p><p>Her feet skid along the tile floor, past the swinging kitchen door. Rey heads straight to the break room, where she’ll lock herself in and Benjamin out, and he’ll give up and just head home, leaving her safely alone.</p><p> </p><p>Yes. That’s all Rey needs to do. Ignore, ignore, ignore. Like she did once upon another lifetime ago.</p><p> </p><p>But Benjamin’s fast. Much faster than Rey.</p><p> </p><p>He cuts her off right as she’s about to yank open the break room’s door, keeping a large hand shut firmly against the wood.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Don’t</em>,” is all Benjamin utters out.</p><p> </p><p>She ignores him and starts to tug harder, tears dripping down her face.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you upset because of your drive today?” this <em>stupid </em>man asks, “Or was it because of something else? What do you know? What did you figure out?”</p><p> </p><p>Mimicking his behavior, Rey disregards his question and starts to try and pry his hand from the door, her short nails digging into the skin of his knuckles. It doesn’t budge.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Rey.”</em></p><p> </p><p>Her movements cease at his dark tone.</p><p> </p><p>Glistening eyes look up to him. “Shut. <em>Up</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Then, in a futile attempt of overpowering this incredibly large man, Rey stomps on his foot. <em>Hard. </em></p><p> </p><p>And like the freak he is, Benjamin just <em>takes the pain. </em></p><p>
  
</p><p>God, he really<em> is </em>a masochist<em>.</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>His hand doesn’t move. Actually, <em>none </em>of him moves or reacts, setting Rey’s anger level higher. She wants to be away from him. But she doesn’t. But she <em>does. </em></p><p> </p><p>This man is truly confusing.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, <em>fuck this.”</em></p><p> </p><p>So instead, Rey runs back into the dining area, grabs her bag, coat and keys that she left conveniently next to the till and walks right out of the diner, Benjamin hot on her heels with every step.</p><p> </p><p>There’s still cash sprawled all over the counter. Half the lights are still on. And Rey (or rather <em>Benjamin</em>) never checked on anything in the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t just leave, Rey,” he says as she stomps to her car. “There’s still money everywhere and you didn’t lock-“</p><p> </p><p>She whips around violently. “I don’t care! Alright! I don’t give a shit!”</p><p> </p><p>“Rey-“</p><p> </p><p>“You know what, Benjamin? You’ve made me realize something.”</p><p> </p><p>His entire face falls. Like she’s just told him the worst news possible.</p><p> </p><p>“I-I have?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” a sarcastic smile peeks through tears, “You’ve made me realize that none of this is working. The diner, Minnesota, <em>you; </em>none of it will fix me. Nothing ever will.”</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin looks completely lost. <em>That’s </em>a new emotion for him.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t understand-“</p><p> </p><p>“Oh? How does that feel? Pretty shitty, huh? Well, welcome to the club, buddy. I haven’t understood you for a <em>single fucking day.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>He tries taking a cautious step to her, but Rey takes one back.</p><p> </p><p>“Where is this coming from, Rey?</p><p> </p><p>She’s so close to the driver’s door. Only a few steps away. But her heart is begging her to tell him. Tell <em>someone </em>the truth for once.</p><p> </p><p>“I came here so no one would ask any questions. I came here to <em>be </em>no one. And then you show up a-and start <em>asking </em>all of these things and-“</p><p> </p><p>She hiccups, sobbing now.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t face my past. Or you. I d-don’t want to. I’m nothing. No one wants me or needs me. That’s all I’ll ever be. I’m just…<em>here</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>He tries inching forward again but Rey is quick to the door, yanking it open and locking the car as soon as she plunks down in the seat.</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin doesn’t move. Maybe he can’t.</p><p> </p><p>She stares at him through the passenger window, eyes puffy and distressed. He’s confused beyond belief, which makes sense. Rey has not dropped any hints about her mental health to <em>anyone, </em>let alone her past<em>. </em>He wouldn’t know.</p><p> </p><p>With one last breath, Rey fires up the engine and skids out of the lot, dust gathering around Benjamin’s stilled form.</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t have the heart to look back.</p><p> </p><p>__</p><p> </p><p>Rey was a rather…<em>irritating </em>one at the start.</p><p> </p><p>He’d always watched her across the diner, but never interacted. Until now.</p><p> </p><p>She liked to listen to his other conversations. She annoyed him by telling him he should eat. He got in trouble for staying late.</p><p> </p><p>But as time went on, even if in actuality, it didn’t, Benjamin…learned.</p><p> </p><p>He learned she was not here for the same reason the other waitresses all were.</p><p> </p><p>He learned that she was not going to be an easy case.</p><p> </p><p>He learned she was keeping something from him. From herself.</p><p> </p><p>Lying.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t understand how she’s doing it. With the amount of probing he’s done at this point; Rey should’ve been an open book by now. But alas, she’s quite the opposite.</p><p> </p><p>Carol was simple. So was Maddy. The couple from weeks earlier. And every other person he has talked to ever.</p><p> </p><p>Conveniently <em>not </em>Rey.</p><p> </p><p>She’s not pliable with him. To the contrary, Rey is like a steel beam stuck in concrete; unable to move and frozen where she stands for eternity.</p><p> </p><p>Also, Benjamin was never good with woman.</p><p> </p><p>He hasn’t encountered anything slightly romantic in this diner, and while he doubts anyone would label his and Rey’s connection as <em>romantic, </em>it’s something that is united and bound by emotions not of this world.</p><p> </p><p>Which is why he stands here, alone, dust coating his clothes and every single bone in Benjamin’s body is telling him to go after her. <em>Now. </em></p><p>
  
</p><p>He’s never had someone actively <em>fight </em>them about his questions. And he’s afraid she’ll figure everything out before he has the opportunity to see if his prediction is correct.</p><p> </p><p>Rey might be it. The one he’s been waiting for. The one who will free him.</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin was allowed three things when he stepped through that the diner for the first time:</p><p> </p><ol>
<li>Coffee</li>
<li>Books</li>
<li>A second chance</li>
</ol><p> </p><p>And he’s <em>definitely</em> not allowed to do what he <em>wants</em> to do with her.</p><p> </p><p>But there’s still the slight chance he’s right. If that's the case, then Benjamin will be forgiven, only after she accepts everything. </p><p> </p><p>Benjamin runs after her car, the worries tucked and long forgotten in the caves of his mind.</p><p> </p><p>He hopes he’s not making a worse decision than before.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>if you have theories or predictions, let me know! I won't confirm or deny anything but I'm curious what you guys think is happening. </p><p>This fic is intended to be a mystery until the very last chapter. So I hope waiting is your thing. </p><p>im on hell bird app too @dachenabritta</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. fourth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry I'm so late replying to comments! I've really been loving what you guys have to say. It means a lot!</p><p>NSFW warning for this chapter</p><p>-DCB</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Tears are like a dam: they can be held at bay as long as the structure that surrounds it is solid and strong.</p><p> </p><p>It’s another story when it begins to crumble and fall.</p><p> </p><p>The dam has dissolved, and tears run nonstop down Rey’s face, as she wracks out sobs within the comfort of her tiny mobile home. She’s sitting in the kitchen, still in her uniform, face held in her arms and a pain stabbing her heart.</p><p> </p><p>Too close.</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin’s gotten too close.</p><p> </p><p>He’s the last person she wants to see. But also, the only. It’s a brain-racking duality that makes Rey want to scream because she truly <em>does not know what she wants. </em></p><p> </p><p>The silence within her home is interrupted by three, light knocks.</p><p> </p><p>No one has ever knocked on her front door. Not even the grocery person.</p><p> </p><p>With hesitance, Rey rises from her crumpled position and walks the few steps it takes to cross the seven-foot-wide floor, a hand hovering over the door latch.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you want, Benjamin?”</p><p> </p><p>How Rey knows it’s him on the other side will always be a mystery. She just <em>knows. </em></p><p> </p><p>“Please,” he begs, voice muddled and crackly, “Just let me see you.”</p><p> </p><p>He ran all the way here, nearly <em>four </em>miles…just to see her?</p><p> </p><p>It’s the most motivated anyone’s every been for Rey.</p><p> </p><p>So, with tears still wet on her cheeks, she cracks open the door, revealing a sweaty, desperate and <em>focused </em>man.</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin is out of breath when he carefully climbs the stairs to her trailer, Rey falling back again, like she did in the parking lot. He moves towards her like a cautious animal, afraid he’ll scare her with a mere flinch.</p><p> </p><p>“Rey…” he begins, voice gravelly, “I can’t say much to you, but I just need you to listen.”</p><p> </p><p>She nods, hip bumping against her small kitchen counter.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re the same as me. We have the same…stories. It’s just a matter if you’ll choose to accept the ending you’ve been dealt.”</p><p> </p><p>Why is he talking like he’s a physic or something? What does this even <em>mean?</em></p><p> </p><p>“Benjamin, I-I don’t get what you’re saying- I don’t get <em>anything, </em>none of it-“</p><p> </p><p>Rey questioning him for what feels like is the millionth time must be his last thread of sanity because Benjamin suddenly leans forward, the heat of his face being the only thing Rey notices until her entire world grows fuzzy and warm.</p><p> </p><p>How does a simple touch, a simple <em>kiss, </em>like this create such a sense of <em>euphoria, </em>of peace? It makes her tears stop, and her eyelids droop, like a powerful sedative’s been injected into her bloodstream.</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin seems to be experiencing the same feeling.</p><p> </p><p>He gathers her into his broad arms, Rey melting into his touch as he deepens the kiss. It’s a kiss she’s never experienced, where her toes curl and the hairs on the nape of her neck stand rigid.</p><p> </p><p>They break away, coming down from the high and trying to regain normal breathing.</p><p> </p><p>“I was <em>right,</em>” he whispers out, barley audible to Rey.</p><p> </p><p>Her mind is too blurry to question his words right now.</p><p> </p><p>She surges back up, her arms hooking around his neck, and kisses him back much more fiercely than he initially did.</p><p> </p><p>They’re headed down a road of no return.</p><p> </p><p>Rey doesn’t give a shit.</p><p> </p><p>She starts yanking Benjamin backwards to the pathetic excuse for her bedroom, desperate to get her hands on more of him. He’s nearly tripping over his own feet, losing his shoes in the process as she starts to unbutton the front of her dress with shaky fingers.</p><p> </p><p>It’s apparently too slow a pace because Benjamin breaks away from her lips for only a second to reach down and <em>yank </em>the dress apart, buttons scattering all over the carpet.</p><p> </p><p>Rey should really be more concerned about <em>that. </em>She only has one extra uniform. And she can’t sew.</p><p> </p><p>But nothing matters except Benjamin.</p><p> </p><p>He’s ripping the buttons on his own shirt now, the suspenders hanging loosely off the waist of his pants. She shrugs the dress off and frantically starts to unfasten her bra.</p><p> </p><p>Rey has never been this passionate or heated with anyone, to a point where they’re <em>literally </em>ripping each other’s clothes off.</p><p> </p><p>Which, speaking of clothes, Benjamin is taking far too long with his, so Rey reaches down and begins to tug at the metal button, her face meeting his again as she presses her lips firmly to his.</p><p> </p><p>He groans, now able to shuck off his pants and bends down, picking up Rey in one fell swoop. She giggles, watery because of the tears still trapped between each other’s cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>When has anyone ever wanted her like this?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The answer is never.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>No one. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Except right now.</p><p> </p><p>The bed indents softly as Benjamin sets them both down, slowly and carefully. Rey doesn’t let go, even if her bra is still dangling from her elbows.</p><p> </p><p>It takes herculean strength for him to rise and let go, breathing hard as he stares down at Rey, sprawled and blushed. Rey knows exactly what’s racing through his mind.</p><p> </p><p>“I need you to say yes, Rey. Tell me you want this.”</p><p> </p><p>She tries to control her breathing and look anywhere else but his eyes, but her entire life is trapped within his obsidian pools, half-lidded with lust.</p><p> </p><p>Rey licks her lips, the air far too warm in the trailer.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Please,”</em> she sighs.</p><p> </p><p>It’s the only green light Benjamin needs.</p><p> </p><p>He tugs her undershorts and thong in one motion, Rey now completely exposed to him in every single way.</p><p> </p><p>Physically <em>and </em>emotionally.</p><p> </p><p>His hands and mouth are then everywhere; kneading her chest, running over the smooth planes of her stomach, grabbing the flesh of her thighs. It’s too much but at the same time not enough.</p><p> </p><p>Rey starts to whine when his lips start to crawl down her neck, then her ribcage, down past the slight rolls just above her pelvis and then <em>finally </em>to the spot her body has been begging for.</p><p> </p><p>She jolts at the first swipe, Benjamin holding her firmly down with strong hands.</p><p> </p><p>Rey cries at the second lick, her hands gripping onto his midnight locks for anything to tether her to the reality of this world.</p><p> </p><p>He continues in a pattern that makes Rey’s eyes water and although it’s one of the best feelings she’s ever experience Rey needs <em>more. </em></p><p> </p><p>It feels like a clock is ticking.</p><p> </p><p>An unknown timer, beyond the skies of earth.</p><p> </p><p>So, Rey tugs his head hard enough that he looks up, his chin glistening and eyes just open enough to peak up at her.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Benjamin.”</em></p><p> </p><p>She’s never seen him hungry before. But right now, he looks <em>starved. </em></p><p> </p><p>He kisses his way back up, Rey recapturing his mouth despite his slight whine of a protest.</p><p> </p><p>“H-hurry,” she stutters out, voice small and stuck in her throat.</p><p> </p><p>His hands fumble below her and in only a few seconds, he’s grunting and pushing in, Rey’s mouth unhinging as she takes every bit of him.</p><p> </p><p>“O-oh, <em>god,</em>” Rey says to the ceiling.</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin’s slow at first, kissing along her throat and collarbones, until Rey begins to rock her hips up to him, enhancing every feeling tenfold.</p><p> </p><p>He lets loose like a feral animal.</p><p> </p><p>His arms cage her head, rising from her body and thrusts with so much power that Rey’s small breasts bounce.</p><p> </p><p>This feeling is not one of basic pleasure.</p><p> </p><p>Rey can feel him in every part of her body, which should be impossible. His warmth wraps around every inch of her skin, her mind gone within the depth of his eyes. Every thrust takes her higher and higher, until Rey is not in her body, but rather above it and watching down below.</p><p> </p><p>And then Benjamin reaches a hand down and begins to circle with a light touch.</p><p> </p><p>It’s the last thing she needed to reach heaven.</p><p> </p><p>Rey’s dry sobbing, nails clawing hard into his biceps as the sensation completely overtakes every atom of her body, inch by inch, Ben spilling inside her within a minute of her crest.</p><p> </p><p>It’s like nothing she’s ever felt before.</p><p> </p><p>__</p><p> </p><p>He joins her against the pillows, sleepy and sated, his arms looped around her waist and their legs tangled together.</p><p> </p><p>And for once in what feels like two hundred years, Rey is <em>happy. </em></p><p> </p><p>She begins to nod off within the comforts of their combined warmth, the trailer fading away as Rey begins to slip into the world of dreams.</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin, for whatever odd reason, rises from the bed, and Rey groans at the loss of her heater. Rey starts to wake, but he rubs a soothing circle around her ankle from the end of the mattress.</p><p> </p><p>“Stay there, Rey. Keep sleeping.”</p><p> </p><p>She vaguely nods, rolling into the pillows that now smell like him and taking a deep breath, letting the scent of sandalwood and sweat race through her system.</p><p> </p><p>From the back of the trailer, Rey hears a couple drawers and cabinets open until Benjamin apparently finds whatever he’s been seeking. There’s a standstill of silence until a small scratching sound comes from the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes are still closed when he creeps back on the bed and folds Rey back within his arms, his chest rising and falling with calming breaths.</p><p> </p><p>“Keep sleeping, Rey. Just like you did last time.”</p><p> </p><p>His words are at the end of a dark tunnel and while they should scare her, Rey feels nothing but <em>safe. </em></p><p> </p><p>Her mind succumbs to the ecstasy and rapture that is being with Benjamin, even if Rey’s consciousness starts to feel the trailer grow hotter and hotter, the air becoming thick and hard to breathe.</p><p> </p><p>The trailer is completely engulfed in calm, orange flames by the time Rey falls to the depths of an endless sleep.</p><p> </p><p>__</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>What’s that smell?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Her nose scrunches as Rey tries to identify whatever is filling her senses with such a saccharine scent.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>It’s…sweet. Like someone’s baking.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Rey’s eyes crack open to a world that’s hazy and…unknown. She’s in a living room inside a house, the sun setting beyond the glass doors to her left, and cream walls decorated with pictures and paintings on her right.</p><p> </p><p>She immediately bolts up to realize that she’s been sleeping sitting up against a leather couch, a TV playing static with no noise in front of her.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Where am I?</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>This isn’t her trailer. This isn’t even her house back in Chicago.</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Dinner’s ready!” a high-pitched voice chirps from behind her.</p><p> </p><p>Rey whips around to see a girl, no older than five, running towards her, a stack of plates in her hands. Her brown curls bounce with every skip as she rounds the couch.</p><p> </p><p>Rey’s mouth just gapes at the little girl, completely unknown to Rey who she is, as Rey hesitantly picks up a porcelain plate from the heavy stack.</p><p> </p><p>“Um. Thanks?”</p><p> </p><p>The girl smiles wide, a few teeth missing, her tanned and freckled skin aglow in happiness.</p><p> </p><p>“No problem, Mama!”</p><p> </p><p>Rey heart stops when the girl leaves, skipping back towards what she presumes is the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>She almost drops the plate.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I’m dreaming, aren’t I? I must be.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p> Her body is like lead when Rey stands up, the blood rushing to her head with every step following the little girl.</p><p> </p><p>A little girl that thinks <em>Rey </em>is her mother.</p><p> </p><p>She turns a corner to see light flooding the next room, the sizzle of something cooking and a timer going off.</p><p> </p><p>Rey is not breathing.</p><p> </p><p>When the kitchen comes into view, there’s pots and pans everywhere, the table set up with forks and knives, and the little girl waiting patiently at the table set for four with <em>her </em>plate.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, Mama! Daddy’s almost done.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey makes no further expression, keeping her eyes solely trained on the little girl who looks so frighteningly familiar but mysterious in every other aspect.</p><p> </p><p>She sits in the spot next to her, back to the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>This is the most realistic dream Rey has ever experienced in her life.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, after what feels like an eternity of waiting for this supposed dinner they’re being served, heavy footsteps accompanied by skittering, light ones approach the table.</p><p> </p><p>“Everyone want to start with one?” The voice asks beyond her frozen form.</p><p> </p><p>And that can’t be right, because that’s-</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Benjamin.” </em></p><p> </p><p>It’s not a question. Rey can only exhale his name, every other thought leaving her in a heartbeat.</p><p> </p><p>He's standing right in front of her in sweatpants and a shirt rather than his usual button up and suspenders, eyebrows raised like he doesn’t understand what’s wrong.</p><p> </p><p>It’s less about what’s wrong and more about <em>what’s right. </em></p><p> </p><p>“…yes?”</p><p> </p><p>Another small human appears by Benjamin’s side, another girl, but she looks even smaller than the first one and with much darker hair.</p><p> </p><p>“Who…” Rey trails off, looking between him and the table, so confused that it feels like her head is about to burst. “Where…where am I?”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a slight strike in his eyes, like Rey has said something forbidden, but a smile soon replaces it as he begins to dish pancakes out onto the four matching plates on the table.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re at home, of course. Where else would you be? It’s a Sunday night. We don’t work on the weekends.”</p><p> </p><p>He sets the pan down and lifts the other child onto the padded seat across from Rey.</p><p> </p><p>Her jaw is still dropped. Rey isn’t scared or sad.</p><p> </p><p>She’s shocked.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright you little boogers,” Benjamin says as the girl next to Rey giggles, “eat up before I eat you.”</p><p> </p><p>The girl lets out a shrieking laugh, her sister copying her without knowing <em>what </em>she’s found so amusing.</p><p> </p><p>But the noise dies down and everyone, except Rey, begins to eat in comfortable silence.</p><p> </p><p>Forks scrape across plates, as they stuff bite after bite of syrup covered pancakes into their mouths.</p><p> </p><p>A tiny finger pokes into Rey’s arm. “Why aren’t you eating?”</p><p> </p><p>Rey looks down, her eyes still blown. Hazel irises full of curiosity look up to her with concern.</p><p> </p><p>“I-uh…”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>If this is just a dream, I can just play along. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry honey,” she says, her face finally relaxing, “I’m just tired, that’s all.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I can live in this fantasy, even if it’s only for a night.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>She takes the first bite of her meal and practically moans at the sweetness.</p><p> </p><p> Then another, and another, until Rey’s plate clears and she’s full and happy.</p><p> </p><p>The same goes for everyone else sitting around this table. This family.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Family. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Nova, help your mother clean the table.” Benjamin says to the girl diagonal to him. “I have to wash up your sister or else she’s getting syrup everywhere.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mmmkay!”</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin scoops up the smaller girl who, like he feared, is absolutely <em>covered </em>in syrup, from her fingers to the tip of her button nose.</p><p> </p><p>He leaves the room, but not until his quiet eyes silently search Rey’s like he’s trying to tell her something.</p><p> </p><p>Rey can’t figure it out.</p><p> </p><p>So, like a character in a play, Rey follows the duties of her assuming character, gathering up the plates, silverware, and bottles of syrup. The girl, Nova, picks up the used napkins and deposits them in the kitchen’s trash as Rey places all the dishes in the sink.  </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Mama?” the voice quips again.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, yes?” It’s strange to respond to your own dream.</p><p> </p><p>“Daddy said we can all watch a movie together,” she says, tugging on her pink nightgown, “But he said you get to choose.”</p><p> </p><p>A… movie? Rey can’t even <em>remember </em>the last one she watched. It must have been years ago, in a movie theater with coworkers she could hardly stand.</p><p> </p><p>Nova eagerly awaits Rey’s response. Rey does not have one.</p><p> </p><p>“How about you decide? I can’t think of a single movie right now.”</p><p> </p><p>She jumps up and down, absolutely enthralled by her supposed mother’s response.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeeess!! Thanks mama!”</p><p> </p><p>And then she scurries off, most likely to find her father, and tell him the good news.</p><p> </p><p>It then hits Rey.</p><p> </p><p>She and Benjamin are parents in this dream.</p><p> </p><p>With a quick glance down to her left hand and a gleam of gold, Rey notices they are apparently married as well.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>What is this? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Not knowing what to do with herself, Rey returns to the previous living room and sits back in her spot, not processing her surroundings with high faith.</p><p> </p><p>The rest of her family returns, the little girl now cleaned, and they join her on the rather large couch, Benjamin on her left, Nova on her right, and the littlest in Ben’s lap.</p><p> </p><p>“Which film are we watching tonight, ladies?” he asks the couch.</p><p> </p><p>Nova scrunches her face, thinking hard.</p><p> </p><p>“How about…Cinderella?”</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin grabs the remote from the coffee table and points it at the staticky screen.</p><p> </p><p>“Great choice. What do you think, Emilie?” he asks to the daughter in his lap, “Want to watch Cinderella?”</p><p> </p><p>Still completely silent, but with a smile, she nods.</p><p> </p><p>“Cinderella is it then.”</p><p> </p><p>He clicks a few times, concentrating, until Benjamin is seemingly satisfied and leans back into the couch, arm rising and wrapping around Rey’s back until there’s no space between their bodies.</p><p> </p><p>For a few minutes, the three of them just stare at the TV, their eyes obviously following something.</p><p> </p><p>But Rey only watches static.</p><p> </p><p>“Benjamin…” she whispers to the nape of his neck. “What’s wrong with the TV?”</p><p> </p><p>His brows furrow again, mystified by what she’s claimed.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you talking about? It’s been playing the movie for like, six minutes now.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey blinks a few times, letting the arm that isn’t snuggled with Nova rub at her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“That can’t be right…”</p><p> </p><p>There’s still static.</p><p> </p><p>"I can't see anything."</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin’s expression darkens to one she’s never witnessed before and his head slowly turns down to her.</p><p> </p><p>“It’ll show you whatever you want it to show. You only have to say if you knew, Rey.”</p><p> </p><p>Her mind blanches as she’s physically taken aback by his severe tone. </p><p> </p><p>“Knew…what?” she chokes out.</p><p> </p><p>“You knew the stove was on when you went to bed that night in December, didn’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>She’s stilled in shock, his words hitting her like a train.</p><p> </p><p>“What-how, <em>what </em>are you talking about? Stove?”</p><p> </p><p>He says nothing.</p><p> </p><p>This is not her dream Benjamin.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>This is actually him. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>None of this is possible.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Rey,” his tone flat and depressed, “you’re still lying to yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>And just like the real Benjamin, <em>he’s right. </em></p><p> </p><p>“J-just, <em>stop-</em>“ her throat is coated in sand as tears spill down her cheeks. “<em>Please-“</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>Now it looks like<em> he’s </em>about to cry.</p><p> </p><p>“This is our last chance, Rey. All that’s left is to confess. We’re all waiting for you.”</p><p> </p><p>He nods down to the two girls whose eyes are glued to the TV, unaware and hypnotized by the invisible flashing lights.</p><p> </p><p>“Wake up, Rey.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The world goes black.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. first</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you all know I sobbed while writing this. </p><p>Please be aware of all tags.</p><p>DCB</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <em>Chicago, December 4th 2019</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Chicago is in a flurry. It’s considered one of the worst storms in recent history. The snowplows are trying their hardest, but there’s no way anyone is leaving this neighborhood.</p><p> </p><p>Rey has been snowed in for three days. In all honesty, she doesn’t mind the solitude, but she does miss her very few friends at work. Even though they keep up over text, it’s not the same.</p><p> </p><p>Her house is grayish-blue with white trim, shudders and an entire front yard. Rey makes enough money to afford something twice as big, but she doesn’t need the room. </p><p> </p><p>Rey doesn’t even need the room she has <em>now</em>.</p><p> </p><p>But the suburbs are quieter. More kids around. Less crime. Alas, Rey lives seven miles outside of downtown instead.</p><p> </p><p>The night is a dark blue, the white of the snow illuminated by the moons radiating glow. It’s truly a beautiful and tranquil moment.</p><p> </p><p>A moment that is currently being interrupted by an extremely rough depressive episode.</p><p> </p><p>Rey hasn’t eaten or drank all day. Didn’t shower. Didn’t clean. She didn’t even have the energy to brush her teeth.</p><p> </p><p>She’s just sitting in front of her window on the floor, staring at her lawn with no emotion expect the blatant feeling of numbness. It’s like she’s outside instead and suffering from frostbite rather than within the cozy confines of her empty house.</p><p> </p><p>Days like these are familiar and unfortunately, expected. She been on meds for a while, but Rey skips days and sometimes weeks, just because she’s so busy at work.</p><p> </p><p>And this is the toll it takes on Rey.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe it would be easier to just go outside, sleep in the snow and never wake up.</p><p> </p><p>It’s not like anyone would miss her.</p><p> </p><p>But no. Those are thoughts are forbidden.</p><p> </p><p>That's what she likes to tell herself.</p><p> </p><p>Her hands wrap the shawl she lazily threw over her shoulders this morning tighter, the chill of the night finally seeping through the glass panes.</p><p> </p><p>Rey sighs. She wants to go to bed. It’s the only motivation for anything she has right now.</p><p> </p><p>But she’ll need some tea to sleep. Plus, she’s dehydrated.</p><p> </p><p>Rey’s in a state of dazing hunger and depressed unawareness when she sets the kettle atop the spiral gas burner. The knob clicks until the flame catches and Rey watches the red and blue crash and dance together, the water quickly boiling.</p><p> </p><p>Peppermint usually does the trick. She fills her favorite pink mug and lets the teabag seep.</p><p> </p><p>She takes the first sip and tastes absolutely nothing.</p><p> </p><p>The kettle remains on a low heat, just in case Rey might want another cup.</p><p> </p><p>So, the decision to leave the stove on is purposeful, Rey tells herself.</p><p> </p><p>But deep in her mind, Rey knows she won’t even get through the first one.</p><p> </p><p>She’ll be back for another cup.</p><p> </p><p>Even though she won’t.</p><p> </p><p>Rey is forgetful. And severely depressed. She once left the oven on for eight whole hours. Nothing bad happened, so surely, she’ll be safe again.</p><p> </p><p>She walks up the carpeted stairs of her house, the snow dancing outside her frosted windows and the kettle kept warm by the short flame on the stove in her giant kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe it wouldn’t be too horrible if the gas set off and burned everything down.</p><p> </p><p>That’s all Rey wants.</p><p> </p><p>To become nothing.</p><p> </p><p>Rey flops onto her queen-sized bed, surrounded by clothing, food and trash as she watches the snow drift past her window on this blizzardly, December night.</p><p> </p><p>She’s already asleep by the time the fire alarms are set off.</p><p> </p><p>But Rey remains still, unable to rise from the bed and save herself. There’s a small, malicious voice that sounds like her despair personified, coaxing her to fall back asleep and let the flames of death take her.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>And Rey lets them.</p><p> </p><p>__</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>Sunlight cracks through the trailer in thin rays, illuminating the intimate space that holds all of Rey and her belongings.</p><p> </p><p>Her alarm goes off and Rey’s snoozes it with an annoyed huff, blearily looking up to see she’s slept in clear till noon.</p><p> </p><p>She still has a couple more hours until her next shift.</p><p> </p><p>Time to waste then.</p><p> </p><p>Rey cleans her dishes. Sweeps the little bit of laminated floor she owns. And while she does these mindless tasks, something in the back of her head feels like it’s trying to claw its way to the forefront of her memory.</p><p> </p><p>Ugh. She needs to order some more pain meds in her next grocery delivery.</p><p> </p><p>Time thankfully passes dutifully, and Rey gets ready, like usual, grabbing her car keys and loading up into her Honda Civic, off to the diner.</p><p> </p><p>When she arrives a few minutes early, Rey sits in her car, staring off into the sandy lot.</p><p> </p><p>There is something she is forgetting.</p><p> </p><p>She looks down. She remembered her purse, her name badge and apron. There’s nothing else she could’ve left.</p><p> </p><p>So, Rey shrugs and exits her car, locking it and heading in for the workday.</p><p> </p><p>__</p><p> </p><p>There is something wrong.</p><p> </p><p>Rey works through her lunch shift, so busy with orders that she’s hardly had a second to breathe. A couple hairs have come loose from her ponytail and they’re annoying the ever-loving hell out of her.</p><p> </p><p>She loads up a couple plates with toast and hash browns and cleans up a mess of ketchup a family left. Someone cries while sitting on a barstool and no one says anything.</p><p> </p><p>Rey just keeps her head down and works, even with this weird feeling racing through her blood.</p><p> </p><p>She’s loading up the coffee pot with freshly ground Arabica when Catie randomly approaches her.</p><p> </p><p>“Lorilee is asking for you at her usual table.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey’s brow perks. Lorilee? She’s definitely one of Rey’s favorite regulars but they don’t talk much.</p><p> </p><p>“Uhhh…okay? Should I go over, like, now?”</p><p> </p><p>Catie nods. “I’ll take care of the coffee,” then grabs the pot from Rey’s grasp. “Go.”</p><p> </p><p>Weird. But Lorilee is nice. Maybe she just wants to chat about skincare again.</p><p> </p><p>Another pang.</p><p> </p><p>Where is this sudden itching in her temple coming from?</p><p> </p><p>Rey approaches the table where Lorilee sits, her food already delivered, and half eaten.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey Lorilee. Catie told me you wanted to see me? Is there anything I can do for you?”</p><p> </p><p>The woman brushes her long, black hair from her shoulder, her olive hand reaching and picking up her coffee cup as she slowly turns up to Rey and takes a sip.</p><p> </p><p>Rey’s eyes close in pain as she brings her hand up to her forehead, the pang now a ripple of throbbing.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>What is going on? </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Rey, my dear,” she says, her signature smile lighting up the diner, “Do you believe in second chances?”</p><p> </p><p>“Um.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey just stares down at the woman, a hand still pressed to her skin. She’s trying not to nervously laugh. Where is this coming from?</p><p> </p><p>But Rey is not rude. And Lorilee is expecting an answer.</p><p> </p><p>“Yea<em>. Sure</em>. I guess it depends on the situation, maybe.”</p><p> </p><p>Lorilee’s hazel eyes soften up towards Rey, a feeling of safety and renewal washing over her.</p><p> </p><p>“Have you done things that are wrong, Rey?”</p><p> </p><p>It’s an odd question. But Lorilee says it like brandy; like something a mother would ask to a crying child. And Rey, for once, wants to be honest.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” she replies, “I have.”</p><p> </p><p>Lorilee hums at her response and the pain increases so bad, that Rey falls to her knees, clutching her head like a vice.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>What-help--</em>“</p><p> </p><p>The woman takes pity on Rey and cups her chin into beautiful, lean fingers, her eyes morphing into two suns.</p><p> </p><p>The orbs become too bright and Rey closes hers, Lorilee’s voice and her confusion being the only things that tether her to anything.</p><p> </p><p>“Then you need to tell him, Rey. He’s been waiting. They’re all waiting for you.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Him? Who-</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Rey gasps as every memory of who she’s somehow and <em>impossibly </em>forgetting comes crashing down on her.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Benjamin. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The entire diner goes silent.</p><p> </p><p>There’s no more blinding light.</p><p> </p><p>Lorilee disappears. The waitresses too. Every patron is gone.</p><p> </p><p>Except one.</p><p> </p><p>There he sits in booth 16, just like the first time Rey ever laid her eyes on him, hair dark and swept, wearing the same button up, trousers and suspenders that he’s worn for eternity.</p><p> </p><p>“Benjamin?” Rey croaks out, stepping closer and closer to his table until she’s only a few strides away. “<em>What </em>is going on?”</p><p> </p><p>The entire night suddenly comes back to her. Rey yelling at him in the diner, him chasing after her to the mobile home, and when they-</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Benjamin burned down my trailer last night. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Her breathing has stopped.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>And I dreamed of a life I never had. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Rey just stares at him in his corner booth, no book or coffee to distract him.</p><p> </p><p>He only scoffs, eyes trained down at the table.</p><p> </p><p>“I think you know exactly what’s happening, Rey.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey is beginning to suspect she does, but she locks away every suspicion in a deep, dark box; one with no key.</p><p> </p><p>“You burned my trailer yesterday, didn’t you?” She accuses him. “I-I remember smelling smoke, and then-“</p><p> </p><p>“Rey. That wasn’t yesterday. There is no yesterday.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>What? </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“What the-<em>what </em>are you talking about?” Rey stops her short trail, hands gripped onto the leather seat of booth 15 . “You came over last night, which I’m pretty sure qualifies as <em>yesterday</em> and w-we, <em>slept </em>together and then you must have found a matchbox, but I don’t <em>understand </em>because everything is back to normal.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey doesn’t realize she’s crying.</p><p> </p><p>His voice remains calm, despite her panic. Benjamin’s neck is painfully craned up to look at her.</p><p> </p><p>“What month is it, Rey? What day? What year?”</p><p> </p><p>She scoffs. What a <em>stupid </em>question.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s…” she trails off.</p><p> </p><p>Her words freeze because Rey <em>doesn’t </em>know when it is.</p><p> </p><p>She’s never thought about it.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t know it because they don’t tell you. It’s not a necessary detail for where we are, Rey.”</p><p> </p><p>Her fears are slowly rising to the surface; questions she’s had answered for too long now, but she’s refused to acknowledge.</p><p> </p><p>“And where exactly <em>are </em>we, Benjamin?”</p><p> </p><p>His eyes only provide slight sympathy. They’re begging her for something.</p><p> </p><p>“You know that answer. You always have. This world is already coming apart. You know too much.”</p><p> </p><p>“B-but,” Rey hiccups out, the truth burning like the flames did last night, and the night before.</p><p> </p><p>Rey doesn’t notice but the walls and tile floors of the diner begin to crack, quietly, like lightning striking across an open sky.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s impossible!” she all but shrieks, “I’m alive! I’m talking to you a-and I am at work, at my <em>job </em>where I make money for my <em>home-“</em></p><p>
  
</p><p><em>“That I burned down yesterday.” </em>Benjamin interrupts, standing up as he does so. “Notice how conveniently everything just restarted? How easily you forgot about me? That’s what they do. It’s how they keep you calm.”</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin is now only a breath away, not quite touching her, but hovering over her small, shaking body.</p><p> </p><p>She takes a breath, knowing she must admit at least one thing.</p><p> </p><p>Something that should’ve been obvious from the beginning.</p><p> </p><p>“I-I d-didn’t survive that fire, did I Benjamin?”</p><p> </p><p>He says nothing, his face dropping until he grabs her trembling arms <em>finally </em>into an embrace, and she sobs into the cotton of the shirt he’s been wearing for an eternity.</p><p> </p><p>“There was too much snow.” Benjamin whispers to the crown of her head. “The firetrucks couldn't get down your street and they didn't reach you in time, Rey.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey continues to sob harder as every single puzzle piece that she’s been gathering finally sets into place.</p><p> </p><p>There has never been a day here that wasn’t bright and sunny.</p><p> </p><p>Nothing ever changed, not even the menu.</p><p> </p><p>People came and never returned.</p><p> </p><p>Nothing exists outside of this diner and her trailer.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re both dead, aren’t we Benjamin?” she murmurs into his shirt.</p><p> </p><p>His chest sharply rises, and he holds her tighter.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, we are.”</p><p> </p><p>And while a revelation such as discovering you’ve been dead the entire time is almost unbelievable and non-sensical, Rey begins to…accept it.</p><p> </p><p>Why she does?</p><p> </p><p>Rey doesn’t know.</p><p> </p><p>Her tears finally die down and Rey looks up to Benjamin who’s looking out the window rather than down at her.</p><p> </p><p>“Benjamin?”</p><p> </p><p>“They’ve given you one more chance, Rey.” His gaze falls back to her. “I begged them to let me see you one last time. You just have to be honest.”</p><p> </p><p><em>Honest?</em> Rey just admitted to the fact that’s she’s dead.</p><p> </p><p>“A-about what? What’s wrong?”</p><p> </p><p>His throat bobs as Benjamin chews on his words, still holding her close, like he’s afraid she’ll just drift away if he lets go.</p><p> </p><p>“If you’ve done what I think you have, we’re each other’s only hopes. We’re here for the same reason, but your punishment was much more…disguised, than mine.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Punishment…?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>She breaks away from his chest. “Punishment? For what?”</p><p> </p><p>Rey can tell he’s having a difficult time admitting this all to her.</p><p> </p><p>“For taking my own life, Rey. I drove my car off a cliff in 1955,” he says in such a matter-of-fact state that Rey’s not initially surprised.  </p><p> </p><p>“This is the damnation I’m serving for eternity. I’m only a guide and never a traveler.”</p><p> </p><p>That explains his random conversations with all the other diner’s, the ones who spoke to him and never came back. They had moved on.</p><p> </p><p>Unlike Rey.</p><p> </p><p>“And when they told me about you, about that night, I started to question if the fire really <em>was </em>an accident or rather an accident you <em>welcomed</em> with open arms.”</p><p> </p><p>Her hands fist harder into his shirt.</p><p> </p><p>Rey can hardly remember that frigid, snowy night.</p><p> </p><p>But she does remember burning.</p><p> </p><p>“Everything you told me was a lie and I knew you did it for a reason. You were depressed, weren’t you? When you were alive? You had no more energy for life.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey nods. He’s figuring it out. And so is she.</p><p> </p><p>“You could even say you were...suicidal, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Rey tries to push him away, the forbidden thought of purposefully ending her own life clawing at her mind.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>N-no! </em>I wanted to live! It was all an a-accident, it <em>had </em>to be-“</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin quickly grabs her shaking fists</p><p> </p><p>“It was the last thought on your mind before you suffocated from the smoke. I know it was. They tell me <em>everything </em>Rey. Every thought in your last seconds of life. Anything you did or ate or drank, I know it <em>all.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“If you know everything then why the <em>hell are you asking me?</em>” she screams at him.</p><p> </p><p>Her tears are back in full force, dripping down her face onto the cracked tile.</p><p> </p><p>The neon lights above the bar are melting now and trickling like her tears.</p><p> </p><p>“Because you have to atone. It’s the only way they’ll let you move on.”</p><p> </p><p>He takes in a shuddering breath and grips her wrists harder.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s the only way they’ll let <em>me </em>move on. Rey, <em>you’re </em>my second chance.”</p><p> </p><p>She looks up with watery eyes, not following. “Second…chance? For what? Life?”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you remember that dream you had last night? The one where I made us pancakes, and I held you.”</p><p> </p><p>The ceiling is crumbling, pieces of white falling without preamble.</p><p> </p><p>“H-how—you were actually there, weren’t you? Where was that?”</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin smiles, misting eyes crinkling.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s our paradise if we want it. We can leave this lukewarm limbo and live together, as a family. Forever.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey gapes at him.</p><p>
  
</p><p>The pleading of his voice is so raw and real. The desperation is unlike Rey has ever seen.</p><p> </p><p>And it’s all for <em>her. </em></p><p> </p><p>“I-“</p><p> </p><p>She exhales, lowering her fists.</p><p> </p><p>There’s nowhere else for her to hide. For her to lie.</p><p> </p><p>“I knew the stove was on. I l-left it on thinking I wanted more tea. But I knew I would never turn it off.”</p><p> </p><p>The leather seats of the booths morph into static, the very seams of this world coming apart, thread by thread.</p><p> </p><p>“A-and I slept. I slept knowing I was burning.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s the final confession.</p><p> </p><p>“I let myself die.”</p><p> </p><p>The deepest, darkest secret she has ever admitted.</p><p> </p><p>The entire diner is now shaking and glitching, some areas morphing into a metallic pool of distortion and others disintegrating around them.</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin wraps her tight with his arms. His second chance. His savior.</p><p> </p><p>“We can go home now, Rey. The girls are waiting for us.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey doesn’t feel happiness. Or sadness. It’s a numb feeling similar to floating on a cloud.</p><p> </p><p>He lets one of her hands drop as Benjamin leads them to the door of Brimstone’s diner, the door stuck in a waving motion much like an old television.</p><p> </p><p>“W-wait." Her feet suddenly grind into the collapsing floor. "It won’t be real, will it? We’re just going to live another lie.”</p><p> </p><p>His movements stop just as they’re in reach of the door. Benjamin turns slowly, his face surrounded in a holy glow.</p><p> </p><p>“It doesn’t matter. We’ll never know it isn’t real.”</p><p> </p><p>He grabs her other hand and continues to pull them.</p><p> </p><p>“It won’t be like here. We can move on. We’ll have everything we’ve ever wanted. Including each other. A family. Don’t you want to see your daughters again, Rey?”</p><p> </p><p>Rey wants to cry but she can’t.</p><p> </p><p>“Benjamin, t-they aren’t real. They’ll never be real. They’ll grow up and then we’ll all die <em>again</em>-“</p><p> </p><p>“And then everything will restart. Just like a story. An endless loop that you’ll never remember.”</p><p> </p><p>Outside of the diner’s cracked and warped windows is a setting sun, much like the one Rey woke up to in her dream.</p><p> </p><p>But is it setting or rising?</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin’s hand is now on the door handle. His voice is nothing but a whisper.</p><p> </p><p>“This is your last chance. <em>Please.”</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>And although Rey knows that she’s walking closer and closer to a life that will never be, it’s so tempting that her heart cries at even <em>thinking</em> of refusing.</p><p> </p><p>Rey looks deep into his eyes, for the last time in this realm.</p><p> </p><p>The waves of calmness she's been fighting finally wash over her, like an ocean she's never seen. </p><p> </p><p>“Take me home Benjamin.”</p><p> </p><p>He smiles. The first <em>real </em>one she’s ever seen.</p><p> </p><p>The door creaks open, the world around them shattering and merging into lights and metal and then <em>nothing, </em>until all that’s left is an endless void, free of heartbreak, of misery; a never-ending illusion of one’s personal purgatory where time waves back and forth, forever. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>__</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>An arm wraps warmly around her sleepy body, the morning sun casting honeyed beams onto their bed.</p><p> </p><p>She takes a waking breath in, stretching her arms forward across the silk sheets, as the last remnants of her dream fade from memory.</p><p> </p><p>Rey turns around and nuzzles her face farther into her husband’s naked, broad chest. He hums quietly, rousing from the movement next to him.</p><p> </p><p>"Good morning," she sleepily says into his skin.</p><p> </p><p>She feels him move as his arm lifts from below the covers to rub against his sleepy eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"Morning," he replies, voice still laced with sleep. </p><p> </p><p>His head then turns as he yawns, peering down at Rey. A large hand reaches between them and swipes something from below her lashes.</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you crying?" he groggily asks, "Did you have a nightmare?”</p><p> </p><p>Rey finally opens her eyes, only now feeling the wetness that’s gleaming in the hazy light.</p><p> </p><p>“I-I guess I must have had a bad dream.”</p><p> </p><p>That’s odd. Rey hasn’t had a nightmare in years. The last one being about Nova falling and hitting her head, which in all honesty, is a pretty predictable thought for her little rascal.</p><p> </p><p>He wraps her within his arms, pressing a kiss to her wet cheek.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, it's over now. Dreams aren't real."</p><p> </p><p>He kisses her nose, the corner of her eye and then finally, her lips.</p><p> </p><p>Rey moans at the feeling. Like she does every and any time they embrace.</p><p> </p><p>The lovely, intimate moment is suddenly interrupted by a shriek.</p><p> </p><p>They both groan.</p><p> </p><p>“Looks like someone else is awake too.” Benjamin begins to roll out of bed, intent on heading down the hallway of their master bedroom to the girls' shared room.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait-“</p><p> </p><p>Rey grabs his forearm suddenly, before he completely leaves.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes?”</p><p> </p><p>“I just-“</p><p> </p><p>Why did Rey just do that? It’s like her body is not her own.</p><p> </p><p>“I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>They've said it to each other more than a million times now but right now in this <em>very </em>moment of time, Rey needs to tell him. It’s the most important thing in the world.</p><p> </p><p>Benjamin just smiles and leans back over the bed, recapturing her lips and kissing her softly.</p><p> </p><p>“I love you too. Forever, Rey.”</p><p> </p><p>She smiles back, the tears already dry.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Yes. Forever and ever, Benjamin.”</p><p> </p><p>
  
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you all for sticking through with this rather odd story. It's unlike anything I've ever written. Congrats to those who guessed right and guessed early! I left a lot of interesting breadcrumbs and I was curious who would notice them. </p><p>I think this fic tipped into the territory of horror towards the end there. Sorry if I scared anyone but that was wholly intentional. </p><p>Hmu on twitter if you like to cry with me. I think about death far too often.</p><p>XOXO<br/>Chaney</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>if I'm leaving out any tags lmk &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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